The leech crawled slowly across Jumanji's hand, leaving behind a cold, viscous trail. Yet its touch carried a terrifying density of energy.
It was no longer the entity he once knew.
Its black body, once streaked with white, had deepened into a pitch darkness like the heart of a forest at night, dotted with faintly glowing green spots—pulsing softly, just like the hide of the tiger it had devoured from within.
This was the "Wild Tiger Leech," a hybrid that had absorbed the pride of an eighth-rank beast and turned it into fuel for its own evolution.
The moment it settled into his palm, the leech shrank and vanished, returning to its place within the spiritual farm.
At that instant, Jumanji felt a sense of stability settle within him.
The foundations of his farm stabilized immediately, and the ominous echoes that once warned of its impending collapse faded into silence.
This time, Jumanji turned his gaze toward the black trees lurking like ghosts within the forest's darkness.
He had not taken everything from them before.
Now, it was time to strip them of the last remnants they held.
He immersed himself in a systematic plunder of those spiritual gems.
It did not take long before he finished.
Nothing of value remained behind.
He had stripped the trees bare—extracting every hidden treasure buried within their charred trunks—converting the fruits of his venture into resources that would secure his next step.
"It's time to leave," Jumanji muttered, his voice carrying a newfound weight.
Before he even took his first step, his facial features began to shift.
His structure elongated, his muscles expanded with strength and mass, as though his very skeleton was being reforged beneath his skin.
In mere moments, the exhausted boy vanished—
replaced by a man in his forties, with a sturdy build and sharp eyes that concealed a sea of secrets.
Jumanji examined the changes carefully, inspecting his hands and the strength hidden within them.
A cold smile of satisfaction formed on his face.
"That risk… was absolutely worth it."
This leech possessed a unique ability—it could manipulate the cultivator's physical structure, reshaping both appearance and physique into something entirely different.
Though there were many methods one could use to alter their appearance, this entity stood above them all in both efficiency and mystery.
So much so that the few spiritual experts who understood its true nature had given it a name that inspired dread:
"The Thousand-Faced Leech."
Jumanji set off once more toward his destination, venturing deeper into the dense forest with steady steps.
For two full days, he traveled without rest beneath layers of mist and intertwined trees.
He was not merely passing through.
He moved with precision.
Each time he encountered a plant, he harvested it skillfully.
He divided his findings into two portions—one carefully stored within his bag, the other crushed between his palms and smeared across his clothes, until both his scent and attire became infused with the complex fragrance of medicinal herbs.
Gradually, the harsh wilderness began to recede.
The green veil parted, revealing a majestic sight beyond.
Towering silver walls rose in the distance, gleaming beneath the twilight like a polished blade cutting through the horizon.
The clearing did not signify the end of the forest.
Rather, it was a vast open expanse devoid of trees—while the true boundary remained the surrounding forest itself, encircling the area like an eternal guardian.
Jumanji came to a halt, his eyes narrowing as he murmured softly:
"The Carp Tribe…"
One of the three dominant powers in this region, alongside the "Brown Bear Tribe" and "Eksperia."
With the dignified bearing of his new middle-aged form, Jumanji advanced toward the massive gate.
But before he could step inside, a booming voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Stop right there!"
Jumanji halted calmly, maintaining his composed expression as he slowly turned toward the two guards approaching him.
Their bronze-like faces reflected strict discipline.
The taller guard scanned him from head to toe, lingering on the herbal stains covering his clothes before asking in a dry tone:
"Who are you? And where are you headed?"
Jumanji responded without hesitation, his voice steady and befitting his new appearance:
"A traveling physician, as you can see. I wander between tribes, exchanging spiritual medicines and earning my living."
He paused briefly, then added with subtle intent:
"Why? Does the great Carp Tribe forbid unknown outsiders from entering its domain?"
"A physician?" the shorter guard repeated, sniffing the air as he sensed the layered herbal scents emanating from Jumanji.
His eyes narrowed slightly before he turned to his companion.
"Wait here. Don't take your eyes off him. I'll check whether he's allowed in—or if he requires further inspection."
The guard did not take long to return.
His tone had changed, now carrying a hint of caution and anticipation.
"You may enter. 'My lord' wishes to see you at his residence. Your condition has piqued his interest."
Jumanji nodded coolly, his demeanor exuding the quiet confidence of an experienced doctor.
"Very well. Lead the way."
He followed the guard, leaving behind the massive silver gate that separated the wild forest from the tribe's civilization.
After only a few minutes of walking along neatly paved gray stone paths, they stopped before a large and imposing residence.
It was constructed from finely carved bamboo wood, reinforced with stone pillars engraved with the symbol of a carp leaping above waves.
A structure that balanced luxury and fortification—
clearly belonging to someone at the very peak of authority.
At that moment, a sharp voice rang out behind him:
"You filthy old man, step aside! How dare you block our lady's path?"
Jumanji turned slowly.
Before him stood a man of similar middle-aged appearance, his face masked with arrogance and severity.
Beside him was a girl of about fifteen, dressed in a flowing blue silk gown that shimmered like rippling water.
She possessed the delicate beauty of a budding flower, and a refined herbal fragrance surrounded her—so pure that it rendered the scents Jumanji had layered upon himself utterly dull in comparison.
Jumanji remained still, studying her features with a cold, unreadable gaze.
The man's expression darkened instantly.
"You insolent fool! How dare you look at the lady like that?!"
He moved as if to charge forward—but the girl cut him off with a calm yet firm voice:
"That's enough. We came here for the elder's illness—not for a fight."
The man froze, then stepped back reluctantly, forcing a shallow apologetic smile.
"My apologies, my lady… but this wretched cur deserved a lesson."
Without even looking at him, she replied in a tone that allowed no argument:
"If he deserves punishment, I'll deal with him myself. There's no need for your interference."
Jumanji turned away from them entirely, dismissing their presence with cold indifference.
Behind him, the man's gaze burned with restrained hostility, like blades seeking to pierce his back.
At the entrance, a woman in her thirties stood with composed dignity.
The moment she saw the girl in blue, her face lit up with a diplomatic smile as she extended her hands in welcome.
"My lady, please come in. The elder has been eagerly awaiting your arrival."
Then she turned to Jumanji, her expression neutral, devoid of warmth.
"As for you, sir, 'my lord' requests that you rest in the guest quarters for now. When you are needed, someone will come for you."
Jumanji nodded silently, showing neither objection nor displeasure, before turning and walking away with steady steps.
He quickly blended into the bustling streets, wandering through the lively tribe while his eyes carefully observed everything—until he stopped before a restaurant and entered without hesitation.
He sat alone by a window overlooking a massive tree at the center of the tribe.
It was so enormous that it resembled an ancient guardian, standing in solemn silence over the land.
A waiter brought him a cup of herbal tea and a simple meal.
Jumanji ate slowly and quietly, regaining his strength.
When he finished, he leaned back slightly and closed his eyes.
The surrounding sounds gradually became clearer amidst the restaurant's noise.
The commotion came from a nearby table, where five young cultivators were eating with visible hunger.
The group consisted of a plump boy, two girls, and a pair of identical twin boys.
All five wore matching blue garments bearing the emblem of the "Floating Carp," marking them as part of the tribe's rising generation of spiritual cultivators.
Suddenly, the plump boy slammed his head onto the table with a loud thud and muttered in despair:
"What rotten luck! This is the second week in a row without cultivation resources…
Why is this happening right after our farms awakened?"
One of the girls snapped at him sharply:
"Pluton! These are the elders' orders. We must obey without question!"
Pluton replied bitterly:
"The elders' orders? What about our future? Why awaken our farms if we're not going to cultivate anything?!"
She rebuked him again:
"I told you to stop complaining, or you'll be punished severely, you fat idiot!"
"Who cares about punishment?! Give me the resources and punish me however you want!" Pluton shouted, his voice trembling with frustration, as if on the verge of tears.
One of the twins scoffed:
"Pluton, why are you crying like a baby? They already told us the resources will be distributed next week."
"Another week?!" Pluton slammed the table again.
"This is a disaster! The kids from the Brown Bear Tribe and Eksperia are already cultivating and advancing, while we're stuck here doing nothing but eating!
They said the 'Exchange of Experience' will be held in six months… how do they expect us to catch up when we haven't planted a single seed?!"
"Tell me… why won't they give us even a single explanation for this? It makes no sense at all!" he continued bitterly, striking the table once more.
A heavy silence fell over the group.
None of them had an answer to soothe the wound of their frustrated ambitions.
Of course, those youths had no understanding of what was truly happening behind the elders' closed doors.
But Jumanji—
sitting quietly in the corner like a watchful shadow—
knew the full truth.
It was no coincidence that he had arrived at the Carp Tribe at such a critical moment.
He knew, all too well, that the tribe was going through a turbulent transition.
And the halt in resources…
was merely a symptom of something far deeper unfolding in the shadows.
**End of Chapter**